


learning to love anew

by theglitterati



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Touch-Starved, spoilers for the end of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati
Summary: Lou helps Sam feel better after a dangerous delivery.
Relationships: BB-28 | Louise & Sam Porter Bridges
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	learning to love anew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts).



> Title is from Lou's lullaby.

Sam paused outside the bunker, leaning against the side. Supporting himself on the wall with one hand, he bent over, pressing the other to his stomach. It came away covered in blood, most of it his own.

What a mess. He hoped Deadman wouldn’t freak.

No such luck. “Sam! My god!” he shouted when Sam opened the door. “You’re injured!”

Sam shrugged. “It happens.” He passed Deadman, walking to the makeshift crib in the corner. Lou looked up at him, eyes wide. She was fine. The knot in his chest that had formed when he set out that morning came partially undone.

“You need to get out of that suit,” Deadman continued. “Let me take a look at your wounds.” 

He took a step forward, as though to touch, and Sam flinched back violently, his back slamming against the concrete wall. 

Deadman held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I just thought, since you hugged me—” 

Sam shook his head. One hug didn’t change things, not for good.

“No matter. I’ll keep my distance. But your injuries—”

“It’s fine,” Sam said tersely. “They already healed.” Deadman frowned, confused. “I repatriated.”

“Ah. What happened?”

“The mules who stole your shit. Bastards shot me.” Sam pulled his pack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“Does that mean the mission—?”

Sam tossed a small package from the top of the pile to Deadman. “No, I got it.”

“You are a miracle worker,” Deadman told him. “There’s no one else I would have trusted with this. It’s important medication, for—”

“Don’t care,” Sam grunted. “I only did it for the food.” Deadman had another porter bring it when he arrived at the bunker that morning, the bunker where Sam was living or hiding out, depending how you looked at it. Either way, it was enough food to keep him and Lou fed for months.

“Just making conversation,” Deadman said lightly. “Lou was good, by the way. I must admit, I had missed her.”

Sam smiled down at the crib. “Kid’s always good.”

“That is true. Well, I should be going. I hope to see you again soon, Sam.”

 _I don’t,_ Sam thought, though it was less Deadman and more his life-threatening errands that he wanted to put off. “Thanks for the food,” he said instead. As soon as the door closed behind Deadman’s back, he collapsed onto the bed.

He could have easily fallen asleep, bloody clothes and all. It’s what he would have done in the old days. But now, there was someone who needed him to get up and take care of himself.

That someone rolled onto her stomach, peeking through the bars of the crib and babbling. Sam couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, kid.” He sat up and held out his thumb to her, which she grabbed with a surprisingly strong grip. Then she looked down at his shirt, and frowned.

Did babies normally frown like that? Sam didn’t know. Lou was… unique. She was only nine months old, if you started counting from the day he had opened her pod at the incin—

It was still hard to think about.

But she had a life, a long one, before she was born, too. Sometimes, that extra time showed. She still couldn’t walk, or say more than a few words, but she had seen much more than a normal baby, and she understood more; Sam could see it in her eyes. Certainly, she had seen Sam hurt enough times to know what blood was.

“I’m okay,” Sam told her. “I just need a quick shower.” She stuck her hand in her mouth and giggled. Sam took that as permission to get up.

The bunker was small, like a safe house but crappier, so he could see her crib from the shower. He stripped off and stepped in.

The thing they never tell you about repatriating is that even though you come back, it still fucking hurts. Sam ran a hand over the bullet holes on his abdomen, now just scars that felt like deep bruises. There were three of them, all contained in a small area; an automatic weapon. Just touching them brought the pain back to the surface. His stomach rolled at the memory, and before he knew it, he was bent over in the shower, coughing up bile and a stray cryptobiote.

He waited until the nausea subsided and the rest of the blood washed away, then turned the shower off. He toweled off his hair and pulled on a fresh pair of soft pants.

Lou was sitting up in her crib now, watching him with big eyes. Sam picked her up and brought her over to the bed. It was still strange to him, to hold her. She was so small when she was born that he felt like he would break her. She had grown since then, was maybe even a little heavy for a baby her age, but she still felt… _fragile._

The first rule, the first thing everyone learned about Sam was: nobody touches him. But Lou was the exception to so many of his rules.

He lay back with Lou on his chest. A tiny hand pressed against one of the many handprints that scarred his chest, one given to him by a BT. That hand had been cold, and wet, and had chilled him to the bone. But Lou was warm and soft, and her touch brought none of the revulsion, none of the anxiety that he was used to. He held her close, humming her lullaby under his breath.

And then she looked up at him and said, clearly, “Dada,” and suddenly, he was crying. Not just a reaction to chiralium, for once, but actual, real tears. 

Sam thought — both when he first opened Lou’s pod, and before, years ago — that being a parent would be hard. That he’d have all this responsibility, all these sacrifices to make. All this worry to hold inside himself. And he was right, about all those things.

But he was wrong about it being hard. Lou made it so easy. He would have been willing to do anything it took to keep her safe. The responsibility, in comparison to the sacrifices he would have been willing to make for her, was a small price to pay to have her in his life. She was just so easy to love.

Lou didn’t like to see her dad cry, though, even if they were happy tears. She pursed her lips and blew a raspberry at him. Sam laughed, even though the tears kept falling. As he did, he noticed that the pain in his stomach was all but gone, just a ghost of pressure left behind as a reminder.

Sam pressed a kiss to her — still mostly bald — little head. “You’re the best, kid.”

Lou very deliberately raised her right hand and gave him a thumbs up.

**Author's Note:**

> Death Stranding fic checklist:  
> Chiralium - check  
> Cryptobiotes - check  
> BTs - check  
> Mules - check  
> father-daughter bonding? check check check


End file.
